When I was a child I was terrified of the cellar.

Stories about Hell and the realms of the dead always spoke of it as underground. I suspected that if I found the darkest corner of the cellar, I'd find the gate to Hell itself, and demons would lay claim to my soul.

Though my grasp of theology grew far better when I became a Templar, my fear of dark places underground never left me.

So, as Garbage led Fulk and I through the back alleys of the city and to the entrance to the catacombs the lantern rattled in my gauntlet's fingers.

Every shadow was a ghostly face, grinning up at me as I entered the realm of the dead.

Neither Fulk nor I were in our plague doctor uniforms at the time. Fulk said there all eyes in town would be on the Crows, so it would be better to wear more casual clothes. Furthermore, he insisted that chainmail made too much noise. So, my gloves were the only armor I wore as I entered the depths.

"Garbage?" I whispered. "Are you sure this is the way?"

The little homunculus turned his head and tilted it to one side in confusion. "It's my way home."

"Right," I nodded, my right hand tightening my grip on its sword.

Walls of gray stone surrounded us, and roots like talons reached out at us through the cracks. Shadows danced along the walls. Mine. Garbage's. And Fulk's.

One more?

No, just a trick of the light. Or, more likely, my mind.

Further into the tunnels the walls were lined with coffins. A little further, and not all the coffins were intact, with snowy-white skulls staring through the gaps. Their faces had been forced into an eternal grin, with what little teeth they had left.

"Still further," said Garbage, holding up his lantern.

"Hold on a moment!" Fulk snapped, just before he reached out and snatched Garbage by the back of his tunic. He pinned the little homunculus against the wall, little legs kicking in the air.

"Ok... yeah..." Fulk peered around at his surroundings for a moment. "Much better place for an interrogation. I'll bet no one can hear you scream from down here."

"Fulk, what are you doing?" I demanded, stepping toward him.

Fulk jabbed a finger at me. "Stay back! This little shit could be leading us into a trap. Don't you want to ask him a few questions first?"

"Not like that!" I said, seizing his shoulder and pulling him away from the wall. Garbage slipped from his arms and huddled in the nearest nook he could find, trembling.

Fulk poked me in the chest with two fingers. "Listen to me, altar boy, I'm sick of these monsters coming out of nowhere and you people just trusting them. They're not human!"

"Maybe sometimes that's all the more reason to trust them," I said, shoving his arm away.

"You're being a stupid ass!"

"Maybe, but I think Giradin would tell you the same."

Fulk's eyebrows relaxed and his gritted teeth released. "I... Fine! Whatever."

I knelt down next to Garbage and said, "Sorry about that. My friend's a little jumpy."

Garbage's litle body cautiously unrolled and he looked up at me. "I... I'm sorry I made him so mad... He has questions? I should have explained things better."

I raised a hand to calm him. "It's all going to be fine. Fulk just wants to know a few things. I won't let him hurt you, all right?"

Still shivering, Garbage stood up. "All right."

Fulk folded his arms and grunted. "You're a homunculus made by Dr. Yves, aye?"

"Umm... aye..." he said.

"So, why show us the secret way into his lab?" said Fulk. "One would think you wouldn't want to give away your master's secrets."

"My master named me 'Garbage'," the homunculus said flatly.

After a short silence, Fulk's face softened again. "I... see..."

"Hardly the worst thing he's done," said the homunculus, "And I only realized it was a bad thing a few days ago, but I'm sure you can guess what sort of master he is."

Fulk gave a knowing nod. "Fair enough."

After a few more questions, which mostly seemed to be Fulk posturing, we continued our descent into the underworld with Garbage.

Beyond the coffins lay a hill of human skeletons; man, woman, and babe. More than I could count.

"These are here from the last time the plague hit the area," said Garbage. "Before Dr. Yves brought everyone here."

"Brought everyone here?" I intoned. "Everyone in town came here with Dr. Yves? Why? From where?"

"He was their priest long ago," said Garbage. "Before bad men came and tried to kill them all. They left Toulouse and came here, to a big city with only a few neighbors left. They took all the houses for themselves. My master took this one."

Garbage struggled to climb over large roots, fallen bricks, and piles of bones. His tiny legs and arms were no help as he clambered over all these things. Every now and then, I considered reaching out to help him, but I thought he might find that insulting.

"Is your master a Cathar?" I asked.

Garbage shrugged. "Don't know what that is. But what is he? Well... you hafta see."

We finally came to a wooden door at the end of a long hallway. Garbage looked up at us and said, "Try not to get sick on the floor when you see what's in here. I have to mop it if you do."

I chuckled at his words, until he pushed the door open, revealing a room lit by many candles.

Squeaks and squeals were like nails on a black slate as Fulk and I entered the candle-lit room.

Alining the walls all around us were cages which held moving lumps of fur and skin inside of them. Upon closer inspection, I realized that the creatures were enormous rats.

No.

Not rats.

Their front legs were more like arms, their paws more like human hands. They were missing patches of fur, places where pale, human-like skin showed through. Their teeth were filled with fangs, and their eyes shone red with hate. Two, three, sometimes four tails swished around behind them.

"Oh my God..." Fulk muttered.

The cages stood one atop the other, like great pillars of horror. The Vermin inside their cages lashed out at us, their claws squeezing through the iron bars, their fangs furiously chewing at them. Black drool dripped from their mouths, and their fur stood on end like quills.

Most grotesque of all was what lay in a cage far larger than all the others.

A female.

Bloated with pregnancy, swollen to three times her normal size.

With six, bare, too-human breasts from which baby Vermin suckled, clambering over each other to reach their mother's teats.

"What the fuck..." Fulk muttered. "What the fuck... fuck... FUCK!" He drew his mace, tears of rage staining his face.

"Dr. Yves is BREEDING FUCKING VERMIN!"